blog vacation of sorts.
I will be on a blog vacation of sorts. My father in law is dying of lung cancer and it has now spread to his liver and spleen. Instead of the months that we thought we had it is now weeks and days. I will keep reading everyones blogs when I get a chance to get to a computer but that will be far and few between. I am with father in law during the day and DH stays with him at night. If I do not get back on here to leave a message between now and Christmas. Happy Thanksgiving. Merry CHRISTmas!!!!!!! Happy New Year!!!!!
Thanks
Peg
A Too Large Pot Roast...
Houston, we have a problem.
My 4 inch by, oh, maybe 14 inch, chuck roast won't fit in my roaster :o(
 
Well, let me rephrase myself. It fits...with some tucking in along the sides, and I do have a bit of space on the ends. But overall, my cast iron roaster is simply too small. My mother said cut it in half and use 2 pans. Oh, the indignity of whacking this wonderful, marbled roast in half! Isn't it a beauty?
No, I don't usually covet meat like this, but this is special :o) I'm used to rolled roasts, or rump roasts...something more akin to the size of a regulation football. In our area here, pork is the meat of choice it seems. Boston Butts, Loins, etc. They are more readily available in the stores. Beef roasts, even a simple chuck roast, just aren't what I think of as a roast. Most around here are what I'd consider more of a thick steak than anything of a roast.
But I got this at the butcher yesterday when I ordered my bulk meats. The owner was cutting up a half a steer and his wife brought out some small cuts to cut them down more. I saw this one on the table and asked about it. She was going to cut it at least in half, if not thirds. No way -- it was just perfect, I thought. So I bought it.
Me.
Home alone here with no husband, no eldest son and fiance, no eldest daughter. Just me and 7 children. Seven younger children.
This roast could last us most of the week if I play it right.
I managed to get about 4 potatoes cut in half alongside the roast on the ends, and maybe 3 or 4 carrots cut into lengths as well. But my usual broth/gravy concoction doesn't stand a chance of being in there. Not without a serious drip shield along that pan! I simply mixed a bit of stock with a touch of flour to thicken slightly and poured it over. It will be covered and cook all day now. Around 5 or 6 pm we'll eat dinner :o)
Can you imagine how tender this baby will be? I probably shouldn't have bought it, being here with just the children, but I lack self-restraint. It just looked too good to pass up.
I imagine when Dewey reads this his mouth will be watering all over the computer :o) I could FedEx a plate overnight to you honey....
16 Years Ago Today...
...A pretty pink, pudgy bundle came home with us from the hospital.
It took 2 full years to get our Miss Jennifer. We had lost our first girl, Stephanie Michelle, at 36 weeks gestation with CMV, pre-eclampsya and Placenta Previa and were told it would be best not to have another baby until my body had gotten back to normal. We waited that next year and then tried again. Must have been a half-hearted, worried attempt on our part because it took another year to get pregnant....and if you know me at all, you'd know that I am jokingly referred to as 'fertile Myrtle' so a year of no babies was rather unusual, or so we know now looking back!
With our previous pregnancy troubles, I was a doctor's nightmare this time around. If they said it was 'normal' to sneeze 3 times a day and I only did it once, I was on the phone in a state of panic. I worried about all manners of things that seemed different this time around. I worried about every little thing concerning pregnancy and babies in general. Ahh, those young, ignorant years.
The day before Miss Jennifer joined us, my Mom and I had done some shopping and such. Dewey had classes that evening, and it was snowy and nasty out. I had promised him a big pot of chili for dinner when he arrived home. However, things changed a bit from the plan of the day. Around 2 pm I started having some back pains. Mind you, this was pregnancy #3 for me, but I wasn't thinking about anything other than what might be out of the ordinary. I ignored the back pains until I couldn't stand for more than a few minutes or couldn't walk but a handful of steps. Note to new moms-to-be...if your back hurts and you are close to your due date, just head to the doctor :o)
As the day progressed, my back hurt even more, tightening and loosening almost constantly. I finally broke down and tried calling Dewey at school. Being night classes, I had to call the security office and they would send someone over to his class. I waited and waited and finally someone called back -- Dewey wasn't in class. He had left earlier, they assumed because of the roads getting bad for the night.
Nice. My husband wasn't in class. We lived out in the boonies basically, a good 45 minutes from the hospital if the day was bright and the roads clear as a whistle...longer with a solid covering of snow and more still falling, let alone if the roads in the boonies hadn't been plowed clear yet.
I put a bag together for the hospital and wandered about, wondering where Dewey was and how I might end up at the hospital if no one showed up at home. We had had to make arrangements with the fire department for emergency transportation already, due to my high risk issues, but I just couldn't see a helicopter landing in the ice and snow covered fields at night.
Finally Mr. Missing-in-Action pulls in. He takes forever to get inside...his arms are loaded. So were mine...I had my bags for the hospital and my coat on. He brought in the mother-lode of baby goodies -- diapers, receiving blankets, bottle liners, formula, some outfits and doo-dads, and a cute little baby doll, all soft and squishy. I love my husband dearly, mind you, but a less-oblivious-to-his-surroundings man you couldn't find, at least that night! He's showing off this and that with a smile, tickled at the idea of a baby coming...
...then notices there isn't any chili on the stove.
...then notices I'm in my coat and have my bags.
I promised he'd get his chili soon enough but we needed to leave. LOL...gotta love a man who buys baby things, right?
We got to the hospital and within a couple of hours, here was Miss Jennifer Annette, all pink and pudgy and a bit on the cold side. We had issues with the doctor on-call, from previous experience, but he came in only long enough to play catcher for the nurse so all was good. Jennifer was cold and needed an incubator and warming lights...and we had issues with that as well, but finally things were taken care of and all we wanted was to go home with her.
I tend to have issues with hospitals...I have a plan in mind, they like to do things their way and by their books. I'm really more of the sort to try and re-write those books. Generally it's best if we just collet baby and head for home as soon as we can ;o) Saves wear and tear on all concerned because I don't give in easily at all.
All turned out well and Miss Jennifer flourished :o) She is spending her second time away from home right now, in Arkansas with Dad on his job until Thanksgiving. She gave him a stern talking to about not eating, hardly anything really, and certainly not very decent foods, and made him go shopping Monday evening. He said she did us proud, shopping as she did. She packed a lot of food into that buggy for a very good amount. Other than to drive -- and pay -- he wasn't really needed at the store at all. She planned the menus out and bought what she needed for him :o) He'll feel just like he's at home...minus the missing 8 people ;o)
Miss Jennifer will make a great wife and mother one day if The Lord moves that direction in her life. She has common sense, panics very little over anything (remember Jacob and David being burned so badly a year ago? She remained totally cool and calm through it all while we raced to the hospital, and she managed the homestead while I was gone at LeBonheur for those weeks). She askes questions and fully expects to get decent answers from folks (like doctors...). She can plan a menu and see it to fruition, and save money in the process.
She was Grandpa's Girl right from the trip home from the hospital. He loved her to pieces ;o)
She's a Daddy's Girl in many ways...and he's fully prepared with a dating contract and plenty of shotguns and ammo to defend her when the tomcats start making the rounds :o) Right now, we all get a laugh out of that country song by Rodney Atkins, Still Cleaning This Gun. The chorus is this:
Come on in boy sit on down
And tell me about yourself
So you like my daughter do you now?
Yeah we think she's something else
She's her daddy's girl
Her momma's world
She deserves respect
That’s what she'll get
Now ain't it son?
Y’all go out and have some fun
I'll see you when you get back
Probably be up all night
Still cleanin' this gun
Like the song says, it's all for show and ain't nobody gonna get hurt :o)
But he's ready, nonetheless.
So, long-winded as usual:
HAPPY 16th BIRTHDAY SWEETHEART!
 Then, and Now...btw -- she started "mooing" in the store at that dress! She was just so cute, mooing every time we passed it, we had to buy it for her!
Blahs for Monday...canning, too
Well, I still cannot add photos over at my other blog. Grrrr! It's annoying, to say the least.
Nothing special going on around here. It's cold this morning...yes, I will concede and say that 29 outside is what I'd consider cold. Brisk, at least. It's sunny already, although we have rains moving in they say. The heat kicked in last night...must have been rather cool. I have it set at something like 62 or so. I'm not a heat person at all.
It was great having Dewey home all weekend. What a surprise to have him show up Thursday. I talked to him several times on the phone Thursday and he never once said a word about being in the truck heading this way. Sneaky. It was about 7 pm when he pulled in, and I was talking to him at the time. The children yelled and said Bro Mike was here to collect the pigs...I had just taken my covering off and pulled my hair down, so told him I'd talk to him later and I hung up. LOL...everyone headed outside to help load pigs while I grabbed a different covering (one that didn't need a bun in my hair...). I'm snapping it and suddenly someone is standing in my bedroom door. I about hit the ceiling! There's Dad, Emily grabbing his neck with a force and whispering "my daddy" into his beard and his ears  
He talked me into having Jennifer go back with him for the next couple of weeks. Something about not being able to cook for himself and being tired of McDonald's and Subway for dinner. Poor man...you'd think he's never had to fend for himself...well, ok, he hasn't had to for about 21 years (or such, since I really started getting better at cooking!). They will be back up for Thanksgiving weekend. My house seems so empty with eldest son and his finance, Dewey and now eldest daughter being gone. I only have 8 to cook for now....so I took a huge pot of chicken and vegetable spaghetti, some homemade bread and a couple of pies up to church last night "just because". Told them it was because we are having evening meetings earlier now with the time change.
I'm ordering some meat from the butcher today -- earned $150 for those two hogzilla beasts out here. Honestly, I'd have given them away just to have them gone, but he wanted to pay something. I'd have been tickled with $50 for the both of them, but $150?! Maybe it isn't much to some who deal in hogs, but it's more than enough for me. So, I'm ordering meat to get picked up Wednesday before Thanksgiving....
- 100# of ground beef
- 100# of ground sausage
- 100# of stewing chunks
- 25# of bacon, sliced
I might need to go with more...what do you think? I picked up 20# of sausage already, and 5# of bacon, then decided at the last minute to get 10# of stewing chunks to can up for Dewey to take with him. That 10# canned up into 7quarts -- so my hundred pounds should glean somewhere around 72 qts, I'm guessing. I think it's about a pound, give or take, ground beef to a quart, so I'l have around 100 qts of that. I'll only do up 25# of the sausage into patties and put by in the pantry. Everything else, Lord Willing, will be in the chest freezer.
What else might I need to stock, do you think? The ground and stew chunks were the only things that came to mind standing in the shopthere. Any other thoughts?
Nothing Political :o)
I'm not voicing in on the political history that has been made. It's done, and all I can say now is May The Lord God bless our President and lead him in His Path, Guide his daily steps with prayer and thought, and Direct him with His Spirit in the leading and protecting of our country. May God have mercy and bless all of us through this time. Now, more than ever, is the time for prayer for our country and our future.
I am still having issues adding pictures in here. I have several just waiting to get put in place. We have pictures of the hogs -- which I sold to a friend at church and don't even have to attempt to load up for butcher myself. I'll use the proceeds from their sale to go buy someone else's pork at the butcher.
I have pictures of our visit with Christina and her family last month -- all our combined children gathered on the swing set, and some beautiful scenery on the way over the Tennessee River.
Yesterday we rearranged the main room here. Being a double-wide mobile home, the living room is rather open and large -- ours is about 18x24. Would be a great living room if the dining room wasn't such a joke in size. Our main room is kept as living room and dining room here. The true dining room houses the school shelves and desk, computer and all the sewing needs.
The move around was done so the cookstove could be set in place for use this year. I am not construction-skilled in the slightest. I can hammer nails, drive screws and make attempts at cutting wood correctly, but I'd be afraid to live in something I had constructed aside from popping up a tent. The enclosure of the front porch into living space just wasn't going to happen on my watch. And without some properly done constructing, the cookstove cannot be used out there without subjecting it to all manner of weather.
However, I think I can manage to close off the back window and seal it properly, then sleeve a pipe through there and mount it for use.
So, the cookstove, however misplaced it may seem in the "living room" of my house, is there now, waiting for the materials to do the task at hand. Of course, I might just wait on thanksging weekend when Dewey comes home for that installation part. I do believe I can do it without him, but I wouldn't want to deprive him of the joy of blessing his wife with the use of her cookstove.
This weekend -- barring that rainy forcast -- we will begin emptying, sorting and purging the workshop building here. It's a mess. No. It's a disaster area out there. I'm bringing the trailer up here and we are going to begin loading everything onto it, then sorting and cleaning the building, getting some areas set up for the mass of tools we have accumulated over the years, and then we'll put things back in place in some sort of order. That's The Plan, anyway.
I guess that's about it. Despite all that's turning about in our country, we are just moving along at the usual pace around here. Although I will admit to a slightly deeper pull to prepare for the future of my family here, mainly our needs and daily living survival things.
How *not* to Wrangle Hogs
My blog entry area here is all whacked out this morning for some reasons. The joys of rural country Internet I guess. I had photo's to share of all sorts of things, but I have no buttons whatsoever along the top here with which to add anything.
Maybe later today I can come back and put them in. For now, the story behind the subject line :o)
Our pigs are most obviously not bred. If they had, um, shall we say, 'met up with' the big strapping male on site the day we bought them, they would have had babies last week. As there are no babies in my barn, its time to butcher these beasts and be done with them. And no more pigs for this homestead. Well, not until we are much better prepared for them...with a concrete room or something.
These ladies have been a thorn in our side since we got them. Didn't want to load at all, wreaked havoc from day one here, played tug-o-war with some of my wayward hens, destroyed every feed bin, water trough, you name it...
...and then Sunday evening, they tore out of our fence. No idea what was on their minds, they were just suddenly in the yard and not the barn. Emily saw them first, calling them 'piggie dogs'. Yes, we will enlighten and correct her on that :o) Knowing that these ladies are just plain evil nasty creatures with a taste for blood, every child outside scattered like the wind. Jennifer loaded the 22 and off she went, I got with Dewey -- poor man, sitting in Arkansas, listening to what sounds like some frantic 911 call or something from us -- and found out for sure how to load that SKS. All I could see was dogs being chased and children bobbing about. I knew we weren't a good enough shot to do much more than irritate the ladies with a 22, although I'm assured now we could have handled them with it well enough.
Dewey called a couple friends from church and they headed over to help us...either load the pigs back into the barn somehow or shoot em where they were. Didn't make a difference to me either way. Here we were, guns loaded, moving around the barn with frantic dogs, frantic hogs and spooked children...5:30 on a Sunday night, dark enough to not be able to see diddly out behind the barn and off into the acreage at all, and do you think we had a flashlight? Of course not. A half a dozen DeWalt and Black & Decker batteries sitting here yet not one had been charged! The one light we found was about as promising as simply holding matches out there.
Yes, we had some rather stern and serious discussions about why those batteries need to be charged and ready at all times now.
We ran those stupid hogs everywhere. One minute they are running after one of the children who are screaming looking for shelter, the next, the hogs are chasing after the dogs trying to bite them. The dogs were trying to keep them wrangled near the barn at least...seems they aren't quite as useless and stupid as I thought. Our friends finally arrive and I'll be slapped silly if those blasted hogs didn't stand still and find contentment in eating the 5 gallon pail of corn we had been trying to entice them with the whole time. Between the two men, they shooed and sue-y'ed those ladies right back to the barn and rigged up their fence again. Just slick as could be.
Here we had a comedy of errors running amok on the homestead and they show up, seasoned farm wranglers, and it all proceed smooth as frog hair.
Yes, the wild "amish woman with the military rifle" was probably the topic of quite some discussion up at Dry Creek Monday. The old timers all sit around up there at the hole in the wall 2-pump gas station and grocery store. It's very Ike Godsey's General Merchandise up there on the mountain. When I passed to go to the feed store and get more corn, it was packed with 4-wheelers and trucks. I thought about stopping and getting something to drink, but I figured they could have a better conversation without the wild amish woman.
I suppose some prayer requests were sent up for us at church as well that night. City folk in the country and all that. LOL...yes, I imagine we will be talked about for a good week after all our escapades here. Guess that's part of living in the county like this. Everybody knows everything, and they all have their opinions as to why this or that happens to the outsiders :o) And with all that went on here with those hogs, I imagine we are the current object lesson for the youngers as to why City and Country don't mix well and why you should be very selective in your marriage selection :o)
Fall Gardening Continues!
Fall gardening continues at Little House. This week the weather is going to be nice, but last week's low temperatures got down in the 20s. We have been keeping everything covered with row covers.
The hoops are there to put plastic over when it gets really cold. I still need to cut a piece of greenhouse plastic to go on them.
This is one of the beds that broccoli is growing in.
I did cover the hoops with a small piece of plastic and sheets on the coldest nights, but we have had frost several other nights with just the row cover as protection. The broccoli florettes still look good, but some of the leaves were damaged by the frost.
A few of the broccoli heads are large enough to pick now, but there are others that still need a week or so. Next weekend we will undoubtedly be eating fresh broccoli and broccoli casserole. Hopefully, there will still be plenty left at the end of the month as well for Thanksgiving. Yum!
Failing as a Parent...my history lesson
Trixi is a dear friend from our other blog and we've chatted back and forth in blogland for a good year or better now.
She commented on my post rebuttal to the anonymous commenter and asked where we thought things went wrong and our eldest started making the choices he has in life.
My pride is rubbing me completely to stop typing, but I can't do that. I can clearly see what we did wrong in our history. I would love to say something short and blame-shifting, like satan got his hold on him and we pray for him to come back.
We do, of course, hold high prayers and hang onto that promise that if we trained him correctly in The Lord, he will not forget those teachings forever. But that isn't really our case and I would be lying outright if I were to shift the blame that easily.
So, the question to ponder is how my son made this choice/these choices that seem to ride against the grain of all we have raised in him and taught him to believe.
While growing up, eldest was in public school until 6th grade. By that point, bringing him home was rather a moot point, looking back. I was ready to homeschool, but in many ways I wasn't prepared for it at all. He was immediately filled with what he wanted to hear from friends and family members.
Why should he be isolated at home with us?
Why couldn't he have the friends at public school that he left behind?
What harm is there to put him back in school if he agrees to try harder?
Why does he have to feed the animals, why does he have this chore or that chore...the list goes on and on.
The bottom line is that we failed him, as parents. We were far too lenient in his raising and have seen that fruit come back on us, plain and simple. We didn't punish everything that was wrong and offensive, ad when we did, it was slow in coming. It grew slowly, and we have the exact fruit we as the parents planted in him and his heart. It just took a few years to really mature.
We once had a policy much like the Boot Camp process I share. Any offense, every offense, regardless of size and timing, was promptly dealt with. The rules were plain and clear. Everything was governed for a time, until his heart was in the right place and the correct responses to any and every discipline were given with ease.
But, we softened on it all somewhere along the line. A church that was more free with their youth and guidance, allowing satan to whisper in our ears little things like "does it really matter if he didn't clean his room today? he's had plans for over a week to go to a movie with his friend?" or "he completed most of his school work for the week, can't he do this or that and finish the work later on?"
We said yes...we should have towed the line and said no. We began to slowly teach him that there were loop-holes in our standards and rules. We taught him how to circumvent those rules by changing them by not being consistent in the response and discipline, and they went straight from being set in stone, to being hastily written in shifting sands.
We taught him to disrespect us and ignore our rules and our voice by letting things slide now and again. We did not respond to much of anything with any level of consistency, so we taught him that rules were subject to every external influence...where we were dictated how he might be punished, if at all; what he did received punishment based on our emotions or mood at the time of the offense; the rules and guidelines we claimed were in place, depended on those same influences.
Our eldest was allowed all manner of things for entertainment...we were taught to feel sorry for him, being pulled out of school, living out in the country away from friends and 'life' and all that, having to live the life we (the adults) chose (that country living and farm life). That was all we heard, from every side of the family connection and from friends (and looking back, it was the friends who either had no children of their own, or had only 1 child and took issue with that). We chose incorrect role models and mentors for not only him, but for ourselves as well.
Sure, I can sit here and easily see all that brought us to where we are now, and I can clearly see the path my eldest is walking and where it is leading him, but I am helpless at this point to do anything but turn him completely over to God for redemption and direction. I cannot change his heart now. He is no longer under our influences, though I do see at times the heart of that young child we once had peeking out and I know he is going to be dragged down and hurt terribly before he finally pulls himself out of this pathway.
I cannot even begin to describe the pain in my heart knowing that I have done this to him. That I have lead him this way by my own lack of parenting. That I will have to watch him continue in the path he is in, making the poor choices that will be with him his entire life. A part of me cries desperately all day and builds a wall of hatred for myself inside. Another part of me knows that it is water under the bridge now, so to speak, and there is nothing I can do to alter his course now, but to pray mightily and deeply with all I have in me for God to grab hold of him and keep him safe and guide him along.
And I can ensure that I am not making those same mistakes over again with our other 8 children. There is no real shame in making mistakes -- once. They are most often made because of ignorance of a better way, a better choice.
But to repeat those mistakes once you have been awakened to them? That is where the shame lies.
How Boot Camp Works
BOOTCAMP FOR ELIMINATING SASS
(Adapted from chapters 3 and 9 of Child Training Tips)
WHAT ABOUT AN OLDER CHILD WHOSE WILL HAS NEVER BEEN SUBDUED AND HAS NOT BEEN TRAINED TO OBEY HUMBLY AND WITHOUT ARGUING?
Many parents have older children whose wills were not brought into submission when they were young – they are full of themselves and voice their opinions about every command given them. Although they did not learn self-denial during their most formative years, it is not too late for them. Since their root need is to learn to say "No" to themselves, they must go back and learn to obey without discussion. It occurred to my wife and I one day that the military has success in training young men and women who were defiant and disrespectful to their parents. We figured that if an 18-year-old rebel can learn to answer "Yes, Sir," and make a perfect bunk within the first week of a 6-week military boot camp, a 10 year old can learn to be respectful in the same amount of time. Here's one possible plan:
· After finishing the book “Child Training Tips” or the seminar “Biblical Insights Into Child Training,” you should approach your children and apologize for failing to properly develop within them maturity and prepare them for adulthood.
· Explain how they must learn to humbly accept parental directions without always knowing the reasons why.
· Give them a time period for demonstrating quiet, humble obedience (perhaps 6 weeks), during which all parental commands will be given without reasons, and no appeals will be considered.
· Tell them they will be required to respond, "Yes, Mom," or "Yes, Dad," to every command, unless it is an emergency. Only then, may they make an appeal.
· An emergency is defined as a time when they have no ability to carry out the command, or they know the parent giving the command lacks information which will most certainly affect the command given, ie: The other parent has given a contradictory command; they have no transportation to go somewhere; there is insufficient food for preparation of a meal; the detergent box is empty, so clothes cannot be washed, etc.
· Explain to them that for every occurrence of sass (anything, but “Yes, Mom” or “Yes, Dad.”), one week will be added to the boot camp.
· So that the boot camp does not continue until they are 30 years old, I suggest that after their accumulated penalties increase the length to 10 weeks, start adding one day per offense.
· Let them know that if, at the end of boot camp, they consistently obey quickly and respectfully, then you will begin to give wisdom behind your commands.
· You must make clear to them, however, that when you begin sharing wisdom behind commands, it will not be the same as your former habits, when you allowed debates. The reasons you give will be brief and may not be discussed at the moment of instruction.
· To kick off boot camp have them practice saying to you, “Yes, Mom” and “Yes, Dad.” Repeat the exercise until they can do it without a sour attitude.
Keep in mind that as they grow and demonstrate they can submit unquestioningly to authority, you can entrust them with more reasons for obedience.
RESPECTFUL WAYS OF CHANGING A PARENT'S MIND
Although parents must be careful to not invite discussion about every parental command, children who are humble and respectful in their attitude should have the opportunity to appeal parental decisions at times. The key to making an acceptable appeal is the respectful attitude in which it is made. Children must never be allowed to dishonor parents by responding with a raised voice, sass, or angry objection. Parents must be careful not to reward such disrespect by continuing the discussion. If children do not learn early in life to be self-controlled in their communication, they will become belligerent as teenagers and will lack self-restraint in all other relationships. Children should have the opportunity for appeals, but only if they demonstrate honor for their parents. More discussion on respectful appeals in chapter 9 of Child Training Tips
Giving Sass or back-talk
1. Sass is any response to an adult statement that is given without permission or invitation. ie:
· Denying responsibility
· Questioning or challenging
· Offering unsolicited explanations during correction.
· Grumbling or blurting out objections about parental decisions.
2. Contradicting a parent's statement is the same as calling them a liar. If a child believes his parent is mistaken about something, then he should be allowed to offer his opinion, but only after he has secured his parents' permission to do so.
3. If you allow them to continue to sass throughout childhood, they will make themselves obnoxious to their future employers and will limit their success in social relationships as well. Sass is a form of defiance and reveals a lack of submission to authority.
4. Sass is any response except, "Yes, Dad," "Yes, Mom," "May I appeal?" or some other respectful request for permission for further discussion.
RESPECTFUL RESPONSES TO PARENTAL INSTRUCTIONS
Respectful responses are ones that indicate humble subjection to authority, such as:
· "Yes, Dad"
· "Sure, Mom"
Children should be able to make appeals for discussion, but only if they show respectful subjection to authority, and first secure permission before offering their questions or thoughts. Possible appeals:
· "May I appeal?"
· "May I have your permission to discuss this?"
· "Excuse me, Dad, may I offer you new information before you decide?"
· "May I inquire as to your reasoning?"
Whatever the appeal process we give our children they should never be permitted to respond with "sass" or "back-talk." If they respond argumentatively, or with anything other than a pre-established respectful response, then we must guard ourselves from responding to them with anything except correction. To answer them or continue in dialogue is to reward them and encourage future sass. Those children who abuse the appeal privilege by appealing every instruction, should have it revoked for a time.
Why Boot Camp?
The tips and thoughts in the article shared are from Reb Bradley's site -- Family Ministries. Yes, he has some ideas that run much like The Pearls, and that tends to bring out the flames and arrows in folks, but think about it for a minute...
As the article says, if the military can take a rogue child without an ounce of proper training growing up and turn them into a respectful, functioning adult, why can't parents manage to do that?
Why do your children have to be 'independent' to the point of plain ignorance, arrogance and disrespect all the time? Why can't parents claim their children while young, and train them to behave properly while outside the home (as well as inside the home)? Don't say most do -- I walk through the same Wal-Mart's and other shops the rest of you do. I've seen the same children, some young and more sad, some over the age of 10, climbing in and out of clothing racks, running all over the store, playing with and grabbing at virtually everything they come near, yelling and talking disrespectfully to their parents, throwing fits when they dare to be told no for something, and worse, any store personnel who dare to correct them for their actions receives the same treatment. They ride bikes, bounce balls, totally tear apart everything in the toy aisles, grab everything off the shelves as they paw after food treats as though starved and they are a nuisance and sheeer annoyance to every other person in the store.
And the parents do nothing. Or they make very feeble attempts to plead and bargain with these children to get compliance on any level.
Why are parents bargaining with their children for proper behavior? Why on earth would a 20-30-40-something adult have to beg and plead with a child, offer deals or compromise their own ideas of behavior for a child so they an do as they please and disrupt the day of every other person they meet?
Plain and simple, what gives you the right as the parent of that child to allow that behavior out in public and disrupt my day? It isn't affecting your day -- you created that behavior and grew it up to where it is, but what gives you the right to inflict it on anyone else? Sure, that sounds arrogant of me to say I imagine, but we've all thought the same thing once or twice when confronted with children like that in a store. It's one thing to allow that behavior toward yourself in your own home, but don't you have an ounce of shame in your lack of parenting skills to want to hide the fact you have untrained, undisciplined, unruly children who think they deserve their own way all the time and demand it? I would. Shoot, I do. If mine act up like that, we push the cart to the front, apologize to the store clerk for thier having to place our items back into stock and we leave the store. Period. I have no right to make everyone else suffer the disobedience of my children. That's my burden to bear and my shame to repent of.
Have we really become a society where the children rule the world simple because we are too lazy?
Don't even answer that. I already know that answer without having to think long about it. Children do as they please because lazy parents have trained them that way. Every time you bargain to get your authority back, you create the monster of greed in a child. Every time you have to plead and beg with a child of any age to get them to quiet down or sit down or simply be still for a few minutes, you are building an arrogance in that child that festers until we have the teens and adults we have out there now. Unless they find fun or entertainment in a thing, they will not subject themselves to it. They feel somehow privileged because they breath air or something. The world owes them something. Sweeten the pot and maybe they will submit to it a little bit, but it's only going to be temporary and totally on their terms.
Why do we have to bribe children with treats, gifts and what-not to get them to obey even basic rules of proper behavior? Why do you have to bribe a child to have their room cleaned? It's their mess. They made it. Doesn't matter one bit that it's in "their room" -- it's a part of the family home and as such is still under the same rules. Bugs and rodents don't just live in one room -- they just start there. Why are we bribing children to behave while we go to the store for groceries? Don't they eat? Isn't it in their best interest, technically, to behave in that store so the food needs can be bought? Maybe you need to leave the shopping cart and go without groceries for the week and see if they decide it's better to behave for that brief time than to get their own way and go hungry without the treats and meals they demand. I know most parents won't do that -- they aren't going to limit their own selfish wants to make a point with the child. I'll wager their parents didn't either. It's called the trickle down effect.
Parents don't discipline because they can't discipline. They have no authority in their own homes. Television has shown children nothing but weak, insignificant parents and called it funny. They get in their groups at school and dismiss their parents with an ease no decent child should feel comfortable with. They have no conscience about talking rudely, disrespectfully or down-right hateful and wicked about their parents, their teachers or anyone else in authority around them. They do not have rules and guidelines in their lives and it shows in bright, glowing colors. Even if you don't see it, trust me, others who deal with the children do. Look around that Wal-Mart next time you're in there. There is a world of children from age 2 on up through teenhood who feel they have every ounce of power and authority -- and sadly, I suppose they do. It's been handed over to them by wimpy parents who don't want to rock the boat in their own home. They want thieeir children to have fun. They claim to be 'choosing' their battles, but in reality, they are 'choosing' nothing. They don't want to get off the phone to deal with the behavior of their children. They don't want to miss that football game or movie on TV to deal with their children. They don't want to get off that computer chat group to deal with their children. It's easier to give in and let them do wha they want. They want to be buddies and best friends with their children instead of the God-called, God-ordained teachers and true parents of their children.
So....(yeah, finally...) as we are having some of these same issues in our home, we are having Boot Camp here beginning Monday. We have to decompress and deprogram from the past month of chaos and upheaval here, and get down to the business of adjusting to Dad being gone for a time. I have to teach my children that rules are rules, period. They are not guidelines to be heeded only if their are fun. They aren't going to get out in the 'real world' one day and be allowed this sort of free-will, rampant arrogance they think they prize at home. They will never have job where they can come and go as they please, or skip altogether because they don't feel like getting up and getting there. They are not going to get to work and decided they don't want the task they have been assigned and simply wander off to do something more fun and entertaining. If they aren't schooled (and we have really slacked off there all month!), they won't even be able to complain about flipping burgers at McDonald's, if they can even get that job. They will not be able to provide properly for their own family one day and we'll just repeat the cycle over and over again for generations.
Gee, kind of like those wicked families where there was no Godly influence heeded all throughout Scripture.
I don't want that for my family and I plan to work hard to discourage it. If I have disrespectful children who grow into adults with that heart of disrespect, it's all on my shoulders. No one else will bear that shame except me. I don't want to stand before God one day and answer to all the times I allowed unGodly behavior in my children.
I'll post the Reb Bradley Boot Camp article in the next post...
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